Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

I meet and interact with lots of people. I value these people and want to treat them fairly, with consideration for their needs and feelings.

But, in truth, how can I? Close friends and family aside, how can I really know the needs, feelings and expectations of so many people? Is that realistic?

Hillel, a 1st century Sage, had an answer, and he summed it up with a practical equation - a Principle for Proper Living:

"What is hateful to you, don't do to others".

This aphorism sends profound messages:

1. The road to harmonious relations begins with your own self-awareness. Become conscious of what hurts you. Then stop doing it.

2. Hillel didn't say 'dislike'; he said 'hate'. We're not talking about mild irritants, so if you don't like coffee, you can/should still offer it to your guests. Rather, consider the things which cause you hurt; think of how it feels to be judged, maligned, disrespected etc. Taste your revulsion; now remember that the other guy has feelings too.

3. Hillel didn't say: "Go out there and save the world". His words are more like "First do no harm".

So go ahead and be a hero, but first - and more importantly - make sure no one's getting hurt.

4. Hillel framed his advice as a passive 'don't do', rather than an active 'do unto others'.

This allows for Hillel's words to serve as practical advice for real life.

Meaning: Personally, I like to have my requests granted. Does that automatically obligate me to grant every request that comes my way?

Obviously not.

That’s impractical and leaves no room for my judgment.

So how should I behave when considering a request?

I should refrain from behavior that I dislike; I shouldn't act condescendingly, disrespectfully, capriciously etc.

I'm an adult, and I don't expect my every wish to be honored. Neither should you. But there's no need to disrespect me. And that applies to you too.

'Gevurah' translates as 'strength'. But, as an internal dynamic, I believe it is best described as 'breaking free'.

A simple example, as a follow-up to last week's 'closeness' exercise (please see last week's Omer message): Being self-aware, you’ll notice that when you’re in ‘closeness mode’ you need to calibrate; one needs to occasionally ‘break free’ ofthe closeness rhythm to allow for the other person’s space. That’s Gevurah; and there Gevurah means respect.

Do we leave space for our loved ones to be themselves? Do we make space in our conversations, to really hear them when they speak?

When a social setting is 'compelling you’ to say something disagreeable (or to betray a confidence etc), do you 'break free' by restraining yourself?

Similarly: There's a natural tendency to react to a [perceived] provocation; which is allowing the situation to control you. When we pro-actively – and courageously - choose a proper response (which may mean silence), that's Gevurah.

Gevurah is avoiding confrontation out of strength, not fear. It's taking your life back from the situation’s grip.

A slightly different side of the same internal flow: When we pray or meditate, we need to break free of life's tumultuous tide to find inner quiet. That's Gevurah.

The bottom line is that it takes great internal strength to break free of a pattern, habit or stream of life.

In the words of the Talmud: “Who is valiant? One who conquers one’s impulses”.

But Gevurah isn't only an inward motion (self-restraint etc), it also flows outward.

The human psyche is prone to inertia; the status quo is comfortable and movement takes effort.

Jim might have honestly answered our original question with "the job search". But it's obviously much deeper.

His deepest need may actually be self-preservation, self-respect, familial-validation, etc.

But he’ll only find that when he pierces through his ‘layers’.

In many ways, we are Jim, as we struggle for inner freedom.

Jim’s process is actually step two of our Passover ‘freedom train’.

Step one is to identify our personal Egypts - the external distractions, pleasures, fears etc., which trap and control us. Freedom comes through transcending our Egypts, to freely live our lives according to our own deeper vision.

But leaving Egypt isn't really possible until you know where you want to go. I can’t freely live as Myself until I’ve identified Myself.

What is my ‘Deeper Vision'?

Historically, the Jews’ ultimate disengagement from Egypt came through crossing the Sea.

The Omer period is a period for self-betterment (see Torah thought of 4/17). More specifically, it focuses on harnessing and refining our emotions.

To understand our emotions, it’s helpful to first look at our intellect.

My Intellect is obviously an important tool: it enables me to understand. But I can intellectually grasp a concept, and still remain totally untouched by it. Until a topic triggers my emotions at some level, I – in my fullest sense - am not engaged.

My exercise is theoretical and detached from my personal reality.

Until I emote.

So my emotions are where the world touches me, and where I express myself to the world. It’s my bridge and my portal; my interface with the world.

In this emotional-refinement exercise, the Omer begins by focusing on the emotional expression, the soul-energy, called ‘Chesed’ (in Hebrew).

‘Chesed’ is usually translated as kindness and/or love. But it’s actually a broader sentiment.

Chesed is that inner feeling of affinity with an ‘other’. It might be a friendly interaction at the office, a desire to help someone in need, or the flow of emotion we call love. It’s the pouring forth (in varying degrees) of positive connectivity to other.

This week is a time to observe our ‘Chesed’ flow.

I need to ask myself: When it comes to my Chesed interactions, is it about me? Or do I really care about other?

[There’s a Chassidic story about a child who watches an adult catch, skin, bone and cook a fish. Before his first bite, the adult explains “I love fish”.

To which the child responds: “If you loved the fish, you would have let him stay in the water. You love yourself, and the fish is just another way of you expressing that to yourself”.]

Do I ever observe, and bask in, the beauty of my internal pull toward another?

For example: When I give my child him a loving hug, do I ever stop to recognize the ‘love’ aspect in my embrace?

When I have a Chesed feeling, am I expressing it enough? Do I express it appropriately and respectfully? Do I respect the other person’s space?

Am I committed to this relationship? Am I prepared to pursue what it takes to retain, and accentuate, the beauty of a given relationship?

Love and friendship are extremely powerful components of life. May a week of conscious observation and exercise last us a lifetime.

Passover is a Festival of national liberation. It’s also a Holiday of internal, personal freedom. It’s freedom in macro, and freedom in micro.

As slaves, we had become spiritually deadened. Not only were we trapped, we had lost our aspirations for anything better. We were resigned to a dead-end reality.

So G-d showed us 'shock and awe' with the miraculous Exodus experience.

G-d shook up our world, catapulting us from our reverie and widening our souls' eyes. We finally realized how alienated we had become from G‑d, from each other and from ourselves.

That was Passover. A blinding, miraculous inspiration, lifting us out of our collective funk.

But quick-fixes don’t last. A ‘sudden awakening’ is just that; it’s a flash of inspiration, and can easily become the proverbial flash-in-the-pan.

Real character-building takes more time; it’s a real process.

In addition, G-d now wanted to give us the Torah; we needed to be morally fit for this special gift.So G-d told the Jews to undergo a seven week exercise, a process of introspection and self-refinement. We needed to fan our inspirational spark, turning it into a healthy flame of psycho-spiritual illumination and consciousness.

That seven week exercise culminated in the Holiday of Shavuot, when we received the Torah.

That’s the macro perspective. Now let’s personalize it.

The Seder experience should bring us a paradigm shift, an awakening, to recognize who we need to be. Passover should lift us above our haze, our habitual patterns, our personal Egypts.

So we have a flash of inspiration. But, what happens the next day? We can’t ‘go back to sleep’. We begin a self-betterment program, to translate our inspiration into real character-transformation.

Every year, beginning on Passover’s second day, we re-visit this seven week process, which is known as the 'Counting of the Omer'. On each of its 49 days we focus on developing a different element of the personality. It's like the 49-step program (7 days x 7 weeks) to recovery from ego/impulse-dependency.

On Sunday night, please count the Omer. Click here for what you’ll need.

Children love stories.Adults too.After all, stories are a special vehicle of learning and communication.What is a story? A story takes a series of individual events, conflicts, twists and turns and weaves them into…a symmetrical whole.There’s a guiding theme. There are lines of causality drawn between seemingly unrelated goings-on. There’s a rhythm and balance.It’s a story.Which brings us to Passover. At the Seder, our questions are answered through the Haggada, which translates from Hebrew as ‘the telling’; thetelling of the story.The Haggadah weaves together historical facts to compose a narrative. It’s a story of an imperfect people who suffer great challenges. These people recognize that they are never alone, because they have a G-d Who cares. With that recognition, they turn to – and place their trust in - the Divine, and ultimately achieve freedom.In a nutshell, that’s the body of the Haggada.It’s a story of our ancestors.And it’s a story of our own. Because we’re still not free.We may not be slaves in the conventional sense, but we’re controlled by impulses, appetites, temper etc; we’re still trapped in ourselves, our habits and our patterns.And, whether we recognize it or not, we yearn for freedom. So we have the gift of Passover.The Exodus was just the beginning. This historically critical event is much more than an event. It’s the force of Freedom in life, a Divine energy waiting to be tapped, especially on the Seder night.But we need to unlock this energy. And a primary key is: The story.In the story - our story - we recognize that we’re on a human journey filledwith many ‘Egypts’. In the story – our story – we recognize that we live this journey for a Higher Purpose. In the story – our story – we recognize that there is ultimately a symmetry to the narrative of our lives, and that transcending the Egypts is the only way to our internal Promised Land.At the Seder, we recognize that each life is a unique and precious story, and that we are co-authors of our individual narratives.At the Seder we resolve to guide our life’s script in a transcendent, liberated direction, and we trust in our Author above to give us the strength we’ll need.It’s Passover. Attend a Seder. Hear your story. Visualize the coming chapters.Now live them.

Why should adults be any different? Where does the sense of wonder and curiosity go? Are we trapped in a world without wonder? Do we lose interest in life’s mystery?

It’s interesting that the Passover Seder revolves around the ‘question’ tool. And that the questions – even for the adults – are portrayed as the CHILD’S question. That seems to be the model.

Perhaps this is teaching us an important path to freedom from life’s narrow straits a.k.a our personal ‘Egypt’s: We need to rediscover the ‘childish’ curiosity within us. Maybe Passover is a time to ask ourselves whether we still have the fire of exploration flickering inside: Do we still wonder about the mystery of Creation or the beauty of our relationships? Are we in pursuit of life or our own tails?

So here are three question-exercises which flow from the Seder and its lessons:

Stop every once in a while to notice the awesome wonder of your world (people, things etc). Just like a kid.

At one level, we certainly are. We’re living in an incredible country, free of undue governmental interference and coercion. We can worship as we please, opine as we wish, and dress etc., however we like.

But still the question persists: Am I truly free?

Not necessarily.

I may be free of external constraints, but that doesn’t mean I am internally – spiritually, emotionally and psychologically – free.

It’s a struggle we all face. Instinctively, we operate from a ‘Self’ position - self-interest, self-gratification, self-preservation etc.

I’m just a small human being. If my life revolves around MY sensitivities, needs and desires, then I have a very small orbit. I can’t be truly free, because I’m trapped in the world of ‘Me’.

Even when I’m high-minded, and focused on my own character growth, I am still preoccupied with Self. Self-development is a very important and virtuous exercise. But bottom line: It’s all about [a more evolved] Me.

So, how to be free?

I need to transcend the limitations of my existence. I need to engage, and truly invest myself in, a pursuit beyond my limited existence.

When I’m committed to others, surrendered to higher values and goals, I begin to experience an unshackled me. When I steer my internal attachment away from my self-serving impulses, I clear a way for my Higher Self to shift into gear.

This is a primary Passover theme. During our Freedom Holiday, we are told to eat Matzah and to refrain from ‘chametz’ (leavened bread).

W

hat are Chametz and Matzah in the soul-psyche, and how do they relate to this Holiday’s Freedom goal?

Chametz and Matzah are very similar. Technically, they can actually have the same ingredients: flour and water. But there’s a critical difference: Chametz has been allowed to rise, while Matzah is kept in its simple form.

Chametz symbolizes the bloated ego; the complex psyche with its self-image, its creature-comfort needs and its life-machinations.

I'm MENDY HERSON, Executive Director of Chabad of Greater Somerset County. I was born and raised in NJ, and I’m the Rabbi at Chabad. Many people call me Mendy, which is just fine with me; I don't want the title to create too much distance between me and my friends (Some people wonder: Can you joke around with a Rabbi? Can you text him?). Spirituality and and Jewish thought are my lifeblood. And I'm thrilled to explore them with anyone, especially with people who disagree with me. When I can explore meaningful ideas with my local friends, to help us all better our lives, I feel like I've struck gold. Basking Ridge has been a great place to live. My family (wife Malkie and my eight wonderful kids) and I really love it here. I have made some really great friends and look forward to the infinite possibilities that the future can bring.